


In the Twilight Hours

by Gaffsie



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: satedan_grabass, M/M, Pining, Post Season 5, Realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-10
Updated: 2012-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-05 03:03:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaffsie/pseuds/Gaffsie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's happy for Ronon. Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Twilight Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



To say that John had been surprised when _Rodney_ started dating Doc Keller was an understatement. He'd seen the way Ronon looked at her, had been there to witness his first tentative attempts at reaching out to her, and though John had never really warmed to her he'd always respected her obvious intelligence. Don't get him wrong, McKay was a great guy, but Ronon was... special. He'd always figured that a smart woman like Keller would be able to see past his gruff exterior and find the sweet guy lurking just beneath the surface.

It had looked promising, and John and Teyla had both watched happily from the sidelines as Ronon made his first attempt to reach out to someone new since he came to Atlantis, but then Ronon and Keller had come back from the Todd kerfuffle on the Daedalus and there had been an obvious rift between them. Just a couple of days later, Rodney had come to John with news of his wonderful new girlfriend, and as happy John was for Rodney, he ached for Ronon. It just didn't seem right that such a wonderful guy should have to be alone.

The truth was that deep down John felt responsible for Ronon's happiness. Which was why it struck John as odd that he didn't feel elated when Ronon started spending more time with Amelia Banks. He _should_ have felt happy, because this was what John had wanted for him.

Wasn't it?

He didn't feel happy. Instead, he felt something akin to loss, which was crazy, because it wasn't like he'd lost Ronon - he still ran with him every morning, sparred with him at least twice a week and saw him at mealtimes and meetings and even at missions once General Landry decided that it was a waste of manpower to not use the Atlantis teams at the SGC.

No matter what Rodney said and Teyla sometimes seemed to imply, John wasn't an idiot. It took him a while to admit it to himself, but eventually he manned up and faced the fact that what he was really missing was something that he'd never had; the kind of relationship with Ronon that Keller had squandered and Banks was getting ever closer to having.

Realizations, John thought, sucked. He still missed Ronon even though he paradoxically saw him every day, only now he was hyper aware of just how much he was missing.

He was glad when, in the middle of his ongoing little pity-party, Don't Ask Don't Tell was repealed. The bureaucracy was a bitch to deal with; all those memos and meetings, but at least it kept him busy. Even Woolsey's insistence that John should be on the Atlantis Repeal Party Committee turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because in between arguing with Dr. Biro about decorations and being bullied into finding them a DJ (for a while it looked like they'd have to set their hope to Lt Jörgensson, who had an unhealthy attachment to mid-90s eurotechno, but after some finagling and a couple of bribes, Zelenka came through), John even found himself having fun.

At the party, after the obligatory speech and one awkward turn around the room with one of the male biologists, John made himself scarce. It was heartening to see his marines excitedly embracing the new regs, but the party was for them, and they'd enjoy it more without their CO there.

Glancing at the rainbow coloured streamers and balloons (Biro's fault) one last time, he left the festivities, the dulcet tones of Donna Summer following him out of the mess. He had a spring in his steps that he couldn't really explain to himself. Nothing had changed for him, not really, and yet he still felt light and floaty, like a new world had of possibilities had opened up for him. He blamed the punch - he knew it had been spiked.

He didn't really have a plan. It was 10 PM, and he'd just figured that he'd go to his quarters, maybe settle down with a beer and a Raymond Chandler novel, but, on a whim, he changed his mind and steered his steps to his favourite spot on the east pier instead. Sometimes, John came here to watch the sunset, but it was much too late in the evening for that. Still, though the shadows were long, with the light pollution from Atlantis it was bright enough to see.

It was a clear night and John could see the lights and smog of San Francisco in the distance. It wasn't a sight he'd ever get used to (and if he was reading Woolsey's enigmatic little smiles correctly, he wouldn't have to), but even he had to admit it was pretty in its own surreal way.

For a while he just stood there, enjoying the cool ocean air. Eventually he could hear Ronon's footsteps behind him. It startled him a little to realize that at some point he'd learned to identify Ronon by the fall of his feet. Ronon didn't say anything as he stepped up next to John, but then he didn't have to. He already knew that John was there, and if John hadn't recognized Ronon from his light steps, the sheer bulk of Ronon's body by his side was harder to miss.

"Not enjoying the party?" John asked.

Ronon shrugged. "It was good."

"Oookay."

John glanced up at him. Ronon's face was half hidden by darkness, but he looked happy. Content. "Any specific reason you left?"

"Wanted to talk to you."

"Oh." He couldn't really imagine why. Last he'd seen, Ronon had been busy tearing it up with Amelia and Chuck on the dance floor. "What did you want to talk about?"

Ronon looked seriously at him, and then, to John's utter surprise, he bent down and kissed him. It was just a quick peck on the lips, with no other part of their bodies touching, but John froze up all the same, his mind reeling with the implications.

"Umm," he said. "What brought this on?"

"I figured something out when Jen and I was on that ship."

That was almost a year ago, but John didn't bring it up. No use in telling Ronon something he already knew. No use in asking which ship either.

"I scared her," Ronon said. He sounded almost amused.

"That's stupid," John blurted, because, well, it was. Ronon scary? The man was a big teddy bear.

Ronon grinned ferally at John and slapped him on the back hard enough to rattle his teeth. "I knew you'd say that. That's why I'm here. She thinks I'm a caveman. You never did."

He shrugged eloquently, as if that explained everything, and maybe, John thought, it did. He knew that feeling of having someone you loved looking at you like you were a stranger, like you were a _threat_. He didn't blame Nance for it - she hadn't asked for him to wake up from night terrors, reaching for a gun that wasn't there, but it had hurt all the same. Being with someone who understood, who had been right there with you when things went to shit; there was comfort in that. And he loved Ronon, that was the whole reason he was out here rather than in _there_ , no matter what bullshit excuse he'd told himself: Watching Ronon on that dance floor, smiling and happy and completely out of John's reach had just hurt too much. The question was just how much Ronon felt for him.

"I don't want to be your last resort." He loved Ronon, but he didn't think he could stand knowing that Ronon was settling for him because it was the easy way out.

Ronon frowned at him."You're not," he said, "but I knew about the rules."

He didn't say, "I always wanted you, but I didn't want to make you risk Atlantis for me," but John still heard it loud and clear.

"The rules are different now," John said, finally getting it. In a way it was touching that all those years John had been looking out for Ronon, Ronon had been looking out for him.

"Yeah."

This time, John was the one who reached up and kissed Ronon, and he didn't settle for a peck. No, this was a full-body kiss, his body plastered against Ronon, his hands grabbing Ronon's shoulders, his tongue delving into the satiny softness of Ronon's mouth. Ronon responded eagerly, letting his hands do some grabbing of their own, and they did the making out thing for a while, something John hadn't really indulged in since college. When they finally broke away from each other, John's lips were tingling and he was pretty sure his hair was standing on end from where Ronon had dragged his fingers through it. Ronon looked kind of stunned and out of it as well. The only reason his hair wasn't a mess was because John had been worried about cutting himself on the knives he knew Ronon still kept hidden there.

The only thing marring what should have been a perfect moment was the nagging guilt John felt. It took him a second to remember (it had been a _really_ good kiss), and when he did he felt his heart sink.

"You're ditching Banks for me?" As flattering that was, it made John feel deeply uneasy. He wanted Ronon, true, but not at the cost of someone else's happiness.

Ronon looked at him kind of funny, one eyebrow raised and his lips curled in a soft smile, as if he was saying "you're kind of dumb, but I love you anyway."

"It wasn't like that," he said instead. "We fooled around a little, but we both knew we'd be better as friends."

"Why?" John felt compelled to ask. "She seemed kind of perfect for you, Big Guy."

"She's not looking for anything serious," he said, "and I am. "He nudged John's shoulder companionably. "I want someone steady."

"Someone old, you mean," John grumbled, but he jostled him back good-naturally.

"Dumb-ass," Ronon said.

"Right back atcha," John said, and things would have degenerated into name-calling if Ronon hadn't rolled his eyes and swooped down to kiss him silent then.

John might have missed the sunset, but if he played his cards right, maybe he and Ronon would still be here for sunrise tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompts "Sometimes people build walls not to keep people out but to see who cares enough to knock them down" and "sunrise/sunset."


End file.
